


Did I misread that?

by Fragile_Porcelain



Category: Houdini & Doyle (TV)
Genre: First Time, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 12:36:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8286113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fragile_Porcelain/pseuds/Fragile_Porcelain
Summary: Arthur couldn't focus. At least, he couldn't focus on anything of importance. All his thoughts swirled around the curly haired, annoying American. Their friendship had transformed into something more. Or had it? For all the thoughts Arthur had about the magician, he never knew if the other man felt the same. But, when Harry hints his possible interest (through backhanded complicated and inappropriate touches) things become... complicated.





	1. Chapter 1

It started as a backhanded compliment. Doyle stood in the streets, staring at Houdini’s face plastered on the side of the building. It wasn't a bad poster. It was brightly coloured, and eye catching, very much like Houdini himself. The magician claiming himself to be the best, and Arthur didn't disagree. Harry didn't know, but Arthur had gone to see the show several times. He had even taken the children once. 

Arthur wouldn't admit it, but his heart pounded faster with every passing second Harry was locked in chains inside that watery death box. But each time, Harry had gotten out, standing proudly atop the glass enclosure, chains in hand. Arthur couldn't deny the sigh of relief he allowed himself each time Harry made it out alive. But, in the back of his mind, he worried that his friend wouldn't made it. 

Arthur didn’t know if Harry considered them friends, but he did. Being tied up and almost dying had changed their dynamic. Before they started working together, Arthur loathed the other man. He refused to see his show. He took every chance he would to insult the unintelligent, pigheaded American. He was sure that the other man had said similar things about him. In their first case together, they hadn't seen eye-to-eye. Harry had insulted his theories of ghosts. But now, it was different. Although Harry was still unconvinced about the supernatural, when Arthur offered another worldly solution, Harry didn't scuff. 

That's not all that changed between them. They no longer made bets to see who was right, or competed. They worked well together. Occasionally, Harry would even help with the paperwork. They spoke of other things besides work. Raising a friendly drink after a hard case was over. Their dynamic had changed to one of partnership, friendship. Or maybe even more. 

Arthur found himself stealing glances at the magician, and he could swear the other was doing the same. Late at night, when they were looking through records or reports, he could feel the others man's eye on him. Or he would find himself drifting from their work, his focus falling on Harry.

His curly hair was always a mess, getting messier as Harry ran his hand through it while he read. Harry tended to chew his bottom lip when he was distracted, leaving it red and swollen. The sight of it made Arthur cock twitch in a way that it should not. 

At first Arthur claimed it was out of loneliness. His wife had been unresponsive for months, he had been alone all that time. So, what if he was distracted by desired to no longer be alone. But as the weeks wore on, and Arthur found himself spending more time with the magician and the constable, he found his attention always falling on the other man, never on the small frame of the woman. 

Arthur never noticed how the woman looked. He didn't care how she did her hair, or what colour she wore. He found that he didn't notice such detail about any woman. He didn't notice when any women passed him in the street, or when they asked him to sign a book. But he always noticed Harry's bright attire. 

He knew how the man's eye popped when he wore green and blue and red made his curly hair look a darker raven colour. He quickly learned to understand the man's expressions and could tell when he didn't get enough sleep or when he had skipped a meal. For being a man of mystery, Arthur had him figured out. Standing before the man's poster, Arthur easily realized how much he carried for the man idolized before him. 

"What do you think?" Harry asked from beside him. Together they stared up at the poster. Arthur contemplated his answer. He rolled it around his tongue. Debating. For someone who didn't care much about what Arthur thought, it had been surprisingly common for Harry to come to him for advice. Harry had even changed several of his posters, having brought them to Arthur first to see what he thought. Arthur would make suggestions and three days later new posters would be all around town, changed how the writer had said. It made Arthur smile.

"I’m glad you went with orange instead of blue. I think that it sets off against the colour of the brick better. However, it might lead people to wonder…” Arthur trailed off with a shrug. Harry looked at him confused. 

“Wonder what?” 

“That you might be compensating for something…” Arthur tried not to smirk at the dumbfounded look on Harry’s face.

“Compensating…” His eyes narrow as understanding dawned on him. He took a step closer to the man, placing him well within Arthur’s personal space. “I can assure you that I am not. I can prove it, if you like?” He spoke lightly, his voice barely heard over the sound of the wagons rolling past. But Arthur heard him clearly. The smirk on Arthur’s face vanished, his turn to be dumbfounded. 

“I…. I…” For once in his life, Arthur was at a loss for words. In that moment, Harry was to close, too much to focus on. Harry’s cologne filled his senses and the shorter man seemed so much closer then he should be, or was socially appropriate. It was Harry’s turn to smirk. He liked leaving Arthur speechless. 

“Are you two just going to stand there all day?” Stratton called from across the way. She saw the two talking. It wasn’t uncommon for them to be near one another. She waved them over. With a smile, Harry followed her towards the crime scene. He brushed past Arthur, leaving the writer in his state of shock. 

“Doyle! Let’s go!” Harry ordered. It took Arthur several moments to come back to himself. He hurried after the other man. 

The thought that a ghost had killed the woman’s husband was hard for even Doyle to believe, let alone getting Houdini convinced. The beheading was gruesome, even for the doctor to stomach. But they stayed to hear what the woman had to say. The magician stayed close to the writer. He made his sarcastic comments, and normal argument against the paranormal. The first-time Harry brushed against him, Arthur thought it was an accident. But as the shorter man continued to do so, Arthur was convinced it was on purpose. 

Arthur allowed himself a glance at the other man, only to have Harry smirk at him. He seemed to know that each brush, each pass of the other man’s flesh against his gave Arthur goosebumps. Harry knew that every second that passes between their touches, Arthur craved for the return of the skin on his. Harry would never admit it either, he liked the notion just as much as Arthur. 

Harry excused himself around midday. He had a show to perform. Arthur threw a wave over his shoulder in dismissal. He was reading through reports of other mysterious deaths in the last weeks, but he and Stratton were coming up short. Harry, who had spent the whole time working on handcuff escapes, had only rolled his eyes and complained. More than once Stratton had told him to leave, but Harry had stayed. Even as he dismissed himself, Arthur heard a hesitation in the man’s voice. Arthur watched the other man leave, never once looking back. With a sigh, the writer set back to reading. 

It was after supper before Arthur got home. He and Stratton had been up reading reports, long after the other officers had gone home. She had told him to go, to eat with his family, but Arthur was determined to get some answers. Even though he turned up nothing. He had thought about going to see Touie, but the hospital was closed to visitors at such a late hour. 

He loved his wife, he truly did. But it was getting harder and harder to see her. He would talk to her for hours, about everything, but he would never get anything in return. It wasn’t like the dynamic he had with Harry. He and Harry had a great back and forth. Harry asked him about his problems, and what he was thinking about. When he sat the Touie’s bedside, he got nothing in return. 

It was so one sided, and it was killing Arthur. His favourite memories were no longer those of his wife and children, but of him and Harry solving crimes. He didn’t know when that had changed, but Arthur felt guilty just thinking about it. His wife was no longer the person Arthur turned to in his times of need. 

Late at night, when Arthur lay awake under the covers, it was no longer Touie’s lips he dreamt on him. It was not the idea of the woman’s soft hands running across his body. The hands belonged to a new owner. Touie’s amble bosom was replaced with the flat, sculpted chest of the shorter man. Arthur knew that the man’s chest was covered in a layer of black curls and he longed to feel it below his fingers. 

So, it was mostly guilt and shame that kept Arthur from visiting his wife. He still loved her, and missed her dearly. But he felt like he was being unfaithful to her, even if he wasn’t doing anything ‘technically wrong’. He passes the corner table, turning back to the shelf when he noticed the missing candelabra. It had been making the corner look less dark. But now it was gone. He looked around confused wondering if it had been moved. But he couldn’t find it anywhere. 

He shrugged it off, assuming one of the children could have knocked it off, or it was being cleaned. Heading to his room, he already knowing what he was going to dream about. His mind didn’t seem to care that it was a sin. His Catholic upbringing well dictating that men lying with men was against God’s will. But Arthur couldn’t control his subconscious as he dreamed. It was all hands, mouths, tongues, and skin. A pleasure build inside Arthur, as he imagined all the things that he wanted the other man to do to him.


	2. Chapter 2

It was mid-morning when Arthur awoke. He gasped, his heart racing and his breath was ragged. He was covered in a layer of sweat. He was down to nothing but his boxers, having stripped off his pajamas in the night. He couldn’t find them in the darkness. If anyone were to ask him, he would claim nightmares were the cause of his suddenly being awake. But the tented covers over his hip would tell them otherwise. 

It was the third time in as many days that Arthur had awoken on the verge of coming. The images of his dreams flashing before his eyes, making him even harder. He tried to will it way, to think about something else. He tried to recall the most gruesome of crime scenes, in hopes that the horror would distract him. It didn’t. 

Every memory brought with it things Harry had said or did that drove Arthur crazy (in a good way). His messy hair, his red swollen lips, the subtle brushing of their skin. Arthur wrestled with his thoughts, unsurprised when he couldn’t get to sleep with the man on his mind, or his raging erection. Like so many nights over the past month, Arthur reach below the band of his pants. 

It only took him four strokes before he was shooting into his hand. The name on his lips not belonging to his wife. He imagined the hand on him to be rough, callused from fighting free of cuffs. It was almost as if Arthur would see the man’s blue eyes watching him as he came. Arthur would allow himself a moment, to just stare at the ceiling, trying to understand the feeling swirling inside him. 

Then he would pray. Pray for forgiveness because of what he had done. The sin that he had committed not only by touch himself, but also his un-pure thoughts. He prayed for forgiveness for cheating on his wife. He prayed that Touie would forgive him. He contemplated what hell would be like, when he arrived. He wondered it Harry would be there and if they would be going for the same reason. 

But he always came to the same conclusion. No. Harry did not rise in the middle of the night, awoken by sex dreams about Arthur. Harry did not come with Arthur’s name on his lips. Harry was famous, and had his pick of woman. When he had sex dreams, it was about whichever woman was beside him in bed. He would come with their name on his lips, Arthur was sure of it. He rolled back under the covers and return to sleep. His heart a little heavier. 

Arthur headed for the Yard early the next morning. He wished the children good day as he pushed past them to get out of the house. He and Touie had purchased the house together, being in it without her was suffocating him. That and the feeling of shame that shoot through him when he thought of Harry; disappointment always followed shame. 

Even if he wasn’t married and he could freely love anyone, Harry would never want him. Arthur was tall and lanky. His left ear was higher than his right. His left eye open less than his right. His brunette hair was beginning to gray, and thin. Harry was always surrounded by beautiful woman, the best of the best. There was no chance Harry would choose him over those busty models. Although it shouldn’t, the realization disappointed the writer. So, he delved into work, hoping to distract himself. There was a murder to solve, after all. 

Arthur was surprised to see Harry already waiting for him at the station. Dark bags hung from the man’s eyes, he looked exhausted. But he did seem to perk up when he saw Arthur. He gave a slight smile, which lit up his eyes. Arthur couldn’t help but smile, he knew that the other man wasn’t attracted to him, but there was a spark deep down, which told him that just maybe. 

“You look terrible. Are you feeling alright?” Arthur cleared his throat, returning him to professional. 

“Just been having trouble sleeping.” 

“Good dreams or bad?” 

“I don’t actually know. Both I guess.”

"Anything I can do to help?" Arthur offered, a friend in that moment. Harry appeared like he was going to answer, but Stratton interrupted. Arthur glared at her. 

"Another murder. Mrs. Collins this time." 

"Guess that rules her out as a suspect." Harry shrugged. 

"And there was a message left behind." Stratton headed from the yard. 

Intrigued, Harry and Arthur followed her. The carriage ride to the Collin's house was more than a little awkward for Arthur. Stratton, busy with her notepad, paid the two men no mind. Harry, had his head leaned back, his eyes closed. Each time the carriage hit a bump, Harry's leg would brush against his. It was a very bumpy road. 

Arthur tried to stare out the carriage window, to distract himself. It didn't work. Each bump caused a brush of the men's thigh, and an increase is Arthur's arousal. The writer was too busy to notice the magician's smirk. When the wagon pulled to a stop, Arthur was quickly out, not even waiting to assist Stratton. The other two looked after him confused. 

"What's wrong with him?" The woman asked confused. 

"I don't know." Harry lied, easily hiding the smile that played at the corner of his mouth. 

The blood covered writing on the wall quickly took Arthurs attention. His arousal gone as he read and reread the message. He hadn't waited for the other two, and he knew it was rude. But Harry was driving him crazy. 

"Are you alright, Mr. Doyle?" Stratton asked as she approached the crime scene. 

"Yes. Fine. Just interested in the murder, that's all." Arthur lied.

"I can take you home, get you in bed?" Harry offered. Arthur knew the man was smirking.

"No." Arthur took a deep breath. He avoided focusing on the thought, and images that filled his mind. He tried not to blush at the offer. "I'm not feeling ill. I am fine. Let’s just focus on the case." 

"Good." Stratton set about investigating. Arthur focused, trying not to acknowledge the man that stood so close to him.

"Me wanting to get you into bed had nothing to do with you feeling ill." Harry said, just loud enough for only Arthur to hear. The writer froze, in the middle of the sentence he was writing. His brain unable to possess the information he had just been told.

"Excuse me." Harry pushed past him. Arthur having to force himself not to moan out-load as Harry's hand ‘casually’ brushed the front of his trousers. Arthur looked after him dumbfounded, only to have Harry smirk over his shoulder. The write didn't know what to do. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, and turned back to his notebook, his hands a little bit shaker. 

Arthur took a different carriage as they headed from the crime scene. He claimed that he had forgotten something at his house, and need to retrieve it before joining them again. Stratton looked at him confused, Harry looked at his knowingly. He waved them off as they rode away, Harry smirking at him the whole time.


	3. Chapter 3

He gave the driver his address as he climbed into the carriage. He quickly closed the blinds over the windows, leaving him in almost darkness. It seemed that he had left his self-control at home, because his hand was down his pants as soon as the wagon was moving. He bit his lip to keep quiet, not wanting anyone to know what he was doing.

 

It didn't take much. A couple strokes and Arthur was coming. After Harry’s quick brush, even though it was through the fabric of his trousers, Arthur was so close. All Arthur had to do was recall the sensation and he was coming. He tucked himself back in, just as the carriage stopped before his house. He paid the man, quickly hurrying into the house.

 

He headed inside to change. His pants sticking to his thighs. He was glad that Vera wasn't around as he locked himself in his room. He tried to find an outfit that looked similar, in hopes that no one would notice he changed. He had a sneaking suspicion that Harry would know. Arthur blushed thinking about what Harry might think.

 

He changed quickly, choosing to take his vehicle back to the yard. He adjusted his hat as he entered the building. No one seemed to notice him, but still he hesitated. He stopped beside Stratton's desk where Harry and the woman sat.

 

"Feeling better?" Harry asked with a smirk. Arthur struggled not to blush. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

 

"Yes." Arthur cleared his throat. "Do we have news on the case?"

 

"Maybe. But we think that there might be some information in the archives.

 

"We were headed downstairs, join us?" Harry offered. He and Stratton were already moving away from the desk. Harry once more brushed past him, getting closer than needed.

 

"Yes. That would be good, finding any new evidence... Ability to solve the case." Arthur stammered. Harry smirking at him.

 

"Stratton!" The chief yelled quickly. The woman rolled her eyes before heading to the office. Harry and Arthur hesitated.

 

"Archives?" Harry questioned. Arthur motioned him away, following close begin him.

 

They had been sitting in silence for several minutes. Stratton had come in, explaining that she had somewhere else she needed to be. He was going to offer to join her, but Harry quickly excuse her. Arthur was on one side of the table, with Harry on the other. Arthur was trying to focus on the words before him, but Harry's eye on him were too distracting.

 

"What is wrong with you?" Arthur asked with a sigh. He tried not to notice how heavy Harry's eyes were on him.

 

"I liked the outfit you had on earlier... Why did you change?" Harry asked, seeming to already know the reason.

 

"I spilled something on it." Arthur lied. He shifted uncomfortable under the man's gaze.

 

"Really? I thought the other one was... Better."

 

"Define _'better'_?" Arthur asked, nonchalantly. He tried not to look so interested on what Harry had to say.

 

"Just Better. The gray blue made your eyes look brighter. Your jacket hugged your hips tauter and the vest….” Harry seemed to drift, lost in imagining. He shifted in his chair, all the while his gaze never left Arthur.  “It doesn't matter. This one looks alright. I guess." Harry almost sounded disappointed. "I'm sure you'd look good in anything... Or nothing."

 

Arthur froze. Harry's voice hadn't been very loud, and Arthur thought he had missed heard the man. But Harry never took his eyes off the writer. His gaze still heavy, challenging. He studied the man before him, waiting to see the reaction. He thought Arthur looked better when he was blushing.

 

"Ummm..."

 

"I have to go... Show and all. Keep me updated?" Harry stood from the table. He had thought he would get a better reaction from the other man. But all he gotten was a stunned look. A cold hand gripped his heart, thinking that maybe he had misread the situation between the two of them. He grabbed his jacket and was quickly away. Not looking back.

 

"I...um... Just... Umm..." Arthur stumbled. Unable to form words until after Harry was out of the room. Arthur sat looking after the other man, confused. He hadn’t disliked what the other man had said. He was just trying to process the words. He was a little taken aback when Harry abruptly walked away.  Stratton entered the room she looked confused.

 

“What is wrong with Houdini?” The constable asked. Arthur still couldn’t bring himself to words, he could only shrug. He brushed off the thoughts of the other man, returning his focus to the paperwork before him.

 

The moon was up before Arthur made it home that night. The children were already in bed, he checked on them before turning in for the night. Arthur was undoing his ties when he noticed the missing crystal glass that was normally on the counter. He shrugged it off. One of the children might have knocked it off, he made a note to ask Vera about it tomorrow.

 

The next day, he headed to the yard. He was hoped to discover some definitive evidence, to prove to Harry that there was something after death. But it didn’t matter, he didn’t find any evidence and Harry didn’t show up at the yard. More than once Arthur asked the constable if she had heard word from the other man. But she had not. After the third time, she looked at him funny. Arthur decided it was best not to ask again. If was midday when Arthur left from the yard, he had found nothing in the archives.

 

He should have gone to see Touie it had been weeks now. Or he should have been writing. He had not typed a word in months. Each time he sat at his desk the words that arose below his fingers were descripting Harry. His soft curls and sculpted chest were vividly described in detail on the page. Arthur had given up writing. So, instead of doing what he should be, he found himself standing in line waiting for his ticket at the arena.

 

Like always, every seat was sold out. The audience talked lightly, waiting in anticipation for the man to enter the stage. Arthur shook a couple hands, smiled as it was appropriate. When the lights went down, everyone fell silent. Arthur watched the man with interest. Everyone was smiling, amused at the man’s trickery. Arthur only payed half a mind to the trick, his attention on watching the man move around the stage.

 

Harry moved so lightly across the stage. It was almost as if he was designed to be before an audience. When everyone clapped, Harry soaked up the attention. He smiled brightly, with genuine happiness. But Arthur did perk up as Harry was lowered into the glass cage. The minutes ticked by, and Arthur found it harder and harder to breathe. All the ‘what-it’s’ ran through his head.

 

_What if he couldn’t hold his breath this time? What if he couldn’t get the chains undone?_ Around him the audience began to shout. They stood, ordering for the man to be released. But there was only one thought that ran through Arthur’s mind. _What if Harry died, and I never told him how I felt?_

 

When the curtain was drawn back and Harry stood atop the box, Arthur was finally able to breathe again. Around him the audience clapper and cheered, unable to understand how the man got out of his watery grave. Harry basked in the glory of his applause. Arthur couldn’t help but smile as he saw the pure joy on the man’s face.

 

Arthur waited until after the show was over. He lingered in the lobby, waiting for the crowd to diminish. They were all paying their gratitude to Harry. He was soaking up the attention. Arthur didn’t know why he waited, he should have gone home. But there he was, waiting for Harry’s attention. But the smile on Harry’s face faded as he caught sight of the other man. It was a subtle change, no one else would have seen it, but Arthur had. It made the taller man disappointed.

 

Arthur tried not to have a heavy heart as he walked into his house. The sun had set and once more he had missed dinner. He had once been hungry but, after see the man’s reaction, his hunger was gone. Maybe it had just been surprise that had morphed Harry’s face. Or it could have been disappointment. Either way, it made Arthur feel distraught. He was already in his Pajamas, and ready to curl into his bed when the knock arose at the door. Arthur was more than confused when he opened the door.

 

“Harry?”

 

“Evening Arthur.” Harry pushed his way inside. The writer shut the door behind him, giving the other man an odd look. “You left the show so fast, I didn’t get a chance to say hello.”

 

“Well, it was late and I needed to get home. Besides, I figured that there was enough attention there for even you.” Arthur’s words were harsher than he meant them.

 

“It wasn’t their attention that I wanted. I tried to get away, but by that time, you were already gone.”

 

“Yes, well… you weren’t at the yard today. I just wanted to make sure you were still alive. I say that you were, I could think of no other reason to stick around.” Arthur said casually.

 

“Alive and well, as you can see." Harry was stone faced. Author had no idea what was going through the other man's mind. A look crossed his face, one that Arthur didn't recognize. But as quickly as it appeared, it was gone again. "If that's all you want..." Harry brushed past him, heading back towards the door.

 

"Harry wait!" The magician turned back from where he stood in the doorway.

 

"Can I have my glass back, please?" Harry cracked a smile. He pulled the small cup from his shirt. He placed it on the table beside the door. "Will I see you tomorrow, at the yard?” Harry hesitated before nodding.

                                                                                                                                  

"Goodnight, Arthur" Harry was quickly away, leaving Arthur to stare after the closed doors.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur didn't sleep well that night. He spent it tossing and turning, trying to deduct the look that had appeared on Harry’s face. At first, Arthur thought it was annoyance. Harry had come all the way to Arthur's house, and only stayed for a minute or two. That would be considered annoying.

 

But then Arthur thought it might be pain. The way that the man's eye and forehead scrunched ever so slightly. Maybe Harry had hurt himself, and that is why he wasn't at the yard earlier that day. It was possible. Harry was always in pain, and Arthur had no doubts why he turned to opioids for relief. But really thinking about it, Arthur allowed himself hope. Maybe the look that shot across the other man's face was disappointment.

 

_Could Harry have been disappointed that he hadn't gotten to see Arthur after the show? Could Harry have come all the way across town, just to see him? Could Harry have been disappointed that Arthur hadn't chosen to stick around to talk about him?_

 

It was morning and Arthur had gotten no sleep. He washed quickly and changed. He would stay for breakfast with the children, before heading for the yard. He didn't know if he was excited or nervous. I worried that Harry might not be there, but he also worried that the other man might be there. The tension that arose between the two of them was making a less than comfortable environment at the yard. He didn't know if anyone else could feel it or if even Harry could, but Arthur did. It just added to the list of distractions keeping Arthur from solving the case.

 

The children talked about nothing. School mostly. Arthur listened halfhearted. He loved them, but was less than interested in what they had to say. Mary missed her mother, as did Kingsley. When they both asked about her, Arthur could only give them a halfhearted smile.

 

"I'm sure she will be at the table in no time." He turned back to his post, hoping the children would choose a different topic. They did. When Vera entered to pour him another cup of tea, he caught her attention. "Vera, do you know what happened to the Crystal glass, and the candelabra that normally sits on the table? They seem to have gone missing."

 

The children quickly fell quiet, the room reaching a state of uncomfortable silence. Arthur looked at his children confused. Their focus moved to their food, unable to make eye contact with their father. Arthur looked from the woman to the children and back. He was missing something.

 

"Children, what happened to the candelabra?" The children said nothing. "I won't be mad if it you broke it. I just want to know where it went. Tell me."

 

"He told us not to tell you." Mary said, only above a whisper.

 

"He? Who is he?"

 

"Mr. Houdini."

 

"Houdini? When was he here?"

 

"Mr. Houdini has come for dinner every day this week."

 

"Harry has been eating dinner with you?" Arthur asked confused.

 

"He would have dinner with us, then show us new tricks. He would stay until we turned in for bed."

 

"Why didn't he want you to tell me?"

 

"He said you were busy, with the case and mother, that we shouldn't bother you with such trivial things."

 

"Are you mad at us?" Kingsley asked sheepishly.

 

"No. I am not mad at you." Arthur was mad, but not at the children. His anger turning to the magician. "Have fun at school." Arthur forced a smile as he quickly headed from the table.

 

The trip to the yard couldn’t be fast enough. He was quickly up the steps and headed inside. He paused only for a moment, to find that man he was looking for.

 

"Good morning, Mr. Doyle." Stratton greeted him. Harry followed close behind her, like a lost puppy. Harry gave him a halfhearted smile.

 

"I think that there is important information in the archives. We'll go investigate." Arthur took Harry by the forearm. The magician looked at him confused.

 

"Should I go with you?" Stratton called as Arthur dragged the other man away from the desk.

 

"NO! We will find you if we have any leads." Arthur continued away. Stratton looked after the men confused. But she shrugged; they were both very odd men. She seated herself at the desk, they needed a break in the case.

 

"Arthur, what has gotten into you?" Harry asked confused. The man's grip was tighter than needed on his arm. There was no mistaking the anger on Arthur's face.

 

"Don't talk." Arthur ordered, his voice an angry grown. Harry looked at him confused. He allowed himself to be dragged to the archives. Arthur pushed the magician into the room before slammed the doors shut (a little bit harder than needed). He tried not to be so upset, but it wasn't working.

 

"If you had wanted get me alone, all you had to do was ask." Harry asked sarcastically.

 

"Shut up ERIC!" Arthur barked in response. He turned his angry gaze on the other man, and Harry’s smile faded. The magician had never seen the man look so angry before.

 

"Arthur, I don't understand? What's wrong with you?"

 

"Wrong with me? What is wrong with you? In what world is every alright to tell my children to lie to me?"

 

"Look, it's not what you think..."

 

"It better not be. Because it looks like you were taking advantage of my children while I was here trying to solve a murder."

 

"Taking advantage... What kind of man do you think I am? They are children." Harry looked at the man disgusted. "How could you, of all people, think so little of me?"

 

"Me of all people?"

 

"I thought you were my friend... my best friend." Arthur could genuinely hear the hurt in the other man's voice.

 

"Harry, tell me why you were at my house having dinner with my children. NOW!"

 

"Because they are the closet thing I have to a family!" The words seemed to tumble for Harry's month without his approval. He sighed, running a hand through his messy curls. "Because you and those children are the closest thing I have to a family. Yes, I have my mother, but she is going to be in Paris for a while. I was feeling alone. So, I went to your house. You weren't there, but the children, they asked if I would stay.

So, I did. They made me feel... included. They told me about their days, about what they wanted to be when they grew up. It was... nice. They laughed at my tricks, applauded because I was good and not just because they had too. I don't know if I have felt that welcome in... Let’s just say a lot of years." Arthur's anger slowly subsided as he watched the other man's stone domineer crumble into vulnerability.

 

"Why did you tell them not to tell me?"

 

"You have enough to worry about. The investigation, your next book... and Touie. I didn't want you to feel guilty that you weren't there...to have dinner with them and to tuck them in at night. I thought maybe... I could help try and be there for them. Ask them about their day, read them stories, wish them goodnight... stuff like that. I don't want to take your place, or their mothers, but I thought I could help. But I see now that it was a stupid idea. I won't... I won't go over again." Harry couldn't hide the defeat in his voice.

 

"Harry, I..."

 

"I have to go..." Harry tried to push past the other man, only to have Arthur's strong hand grip his arm. Stopping him.


	5. Chapter 5

"Last night, you said you wanted attention, but you didn't want 'their' attention. What did you mean?" 

"Don't get me wrong, I like attention. But those people, those spectators, it doesn't matter what they think. I don't need their attention, their applause, their approval." Harry hadn't turned back to the man. But he didn't fight the hand that held him so tightly. 

"Speak plainly."

"Those people are strangers, and I don't care what they think of me. It matters to me what people I care about think. If they approve of what I do... if they are impressed by my illusions. That's why I went to your children, I wanted to know if they thought I was good, impressive. I needed reassurance from people I loved that my tricks were good enough, that my posters are good enough... That I am good enough." The brokenness was obvious in Harry's voice. 

"You wanted our attention... my attention?" Author offered lightly, not wanting to spook the startled man. 

"For such a smart man, you're very stupid sometimes." Harry allowed himself a chuckle. "Of course, I wanted your attention. You're the great Arthur Conan Doyle, one of the greatest writers in the world. I have first additions of all your books. I cried when you killed Sherlock Holmes. You're an amazing father, your children adore you. Kinsley even wants to be a writer. You're a Doctor, for Pete's sake. You might me the most perfect man in the kingdom.   
I didn't know how else to get your attention. I put a ten-foot poster of my face on every street in the city. I was running out of ideas when the murders fell in my lap. I knew that they would get your attention. Then maybe, just maybe, I would get a chance to spend some time with you. Just to be able to be in your proximity made me feel... it doesn’t matter. Please, just let me go." 

"Why didn't you every say something?" 

"What would I have said? What I could have said in order to get your attention? I tried. I sent you show tickets, invited you to lavish party, which I held only in hopes of attracting your attention. But you never showed, not once. I tried hating you for it, but it never worked. You were always the one I strived to be good enough for. Fought, trained, and almost died to be good enough for the great Dr. Doyle. I'm not surprised to see that I’m not enough. I’m sorry that you think so little of me."

"Don't think such things, I think very highly of you. As do the children. I overacted when I heard that you were spending time with them. It's an overprotective father thing, but I know that you would never hurt them. I am glad that you consider us family, I regard you the same. You are my friend as well... Best friend as of late. I am sorry that I never went to you parties, even though you hosted in hopes that I would be there.   
I remember wanting to go, but it was right when Touie was getting sick and I couldn't leave her alone. I do not know where you got the idea that I don't care for you, because I do. I care about you very much." He released Harry's arm. "If you wish to leave, I will not stop you. But know that the children and I will miss you dearly if you choose not to return to the yard, or stop showing up for dinner. You ARE a good man, Harry. I'm sorry I didn't make you feel wanted."

Arthur turned away. They both had said this peace, now it was time to find a murder. He moved toward the table, ready to read through records, when a hand stopped him. Harry’s hand on his armed forced him to turn, before he could even think, Harry’s lips were on him. 

Kissing a man was different than kissing a woman. Harry's skin wasn't a smooth and his lips weren't as soft. But this was a dominance about it that was tantalizing. For a long moment, Arthur was to taken aback by the feeling of the man’s lips on his. It’s was as if Harry’s touch shorted out his brain. After several long moments, he allowed his eyes to close and he kissed back. 

Almost as quickly as it started, it was over. Harry pulled away, leaving Author a little stunned. For several moments neither of them spoke, or moved. Both so caught up in the moment. But the smile on Harry's face faded as Author’s expression never changed from dumfounded. 

"Did I misread that?" Harry asked confused. 

"No… Yes… No…" 

"I'm sorry. I just..." Harry said quickly. "I thought..." Harry was away, placing a long arm’s length between them. 

"Harry..." Arthur motioned for the other man, but Harry didn't move. "Harry, please. I wanted this... It was just a surprise."

"I have to go." 

"No! Please." Arthur quickly caught the other man's arm. Without thinking he cupped Harry's face and crashed their lips together. It was Harry's turned to be a stunned when Arthur finally pulled away. He kept the other man close be holding tightly to his lapel.

"I wanted it. I just never thought… I hoped… but never thought you could… with me. Come over for dinner tonight?" Arthur asked once they both regained their breath. 

"Yes. Perfect." Harry sounded more than a little stunned. Arthur smirked. He rested his forehead against the other man. He closed his eyes and allowed himself a long moment to soak in the warmth of the other man. Arthur released the man, and stepped away. He cleared his throat. Harry quickly straightened his jacket. 

"I believe we have a murder to solve, Mr. Houdini." Arthur motioned Harry up the steps. 

"Agreed, Mr. Doyle." Harry started up the steps, hesitating to steal one last kiss before starting up the steps. Arthur rolled his eye but allowed himself to smile as he followed the other. 

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Stratton asked as they returned to her desk. 

“Yes.” 

“No.” They both took opposite opinions. Stratton looked at them almost as confused as they looked to each other. 

“No.” 

“Yes.” They quickly changed their answer, only to look at each other confused. 

“Did you at least find something to help with the case?” 

“No.” They said together. 

“Well, that was eventful.” Stratton rolled her eyes. The two men exchanged looks, fighting back the blush that was rising on their faces. 

“What have you found?” Harry cleared his throat, turning everyone’s attention back to the case.


	6. Chapter 6

It was dinner time, and Arthur excused himself. He liked the idea of getting home, seeing his children, seeing the way they interacted with Harry. He waited in the carriage outside the Yard. He hadn’t wanted to leave with Harry, in hopes of not raise suspicions. He didn’t think that anyone would really notice, but he didn’t want to take any chances. 

It wasn’t long before Harry was after him, sliding into the carriage beside him. They both hid smiles as the carriage rolled from the yard. Harry hesitated when the carriage rolled to a stop outside the Doyle residence. He had taken the same route every day for the past week, but today was different. Today Arthur waited for him, holding the carriage door. It all seemed very domestic. 

"Harry? Are you alright? I can have the carriage take you home, if you'd prefer?" Arthur offered, the crocked smile on his face slipping. 

"No. No." Harry was out of the carriage. He adjusted and readjusted his jacket several times. Arthur could clearly see that he was uncomfortable. He stopped the other man on the steps on the porch, his hand lingering on Harry's shoulder longer then was appropriate. 

"I may have been too hasty in asking to dinner. I will understand if you reject my offer and return home. I do not want you to feel uncomfortable, as you clearly seem to be." Harry tried to argue, but Arthur was right. He was uncomfortable. 

A worry had grown in the back of him mind. There was a possibility that he interacted with the children in a way that would anger Arthur. A possibility that Arthur wouldn't like his tricks. Maybe Arthur would send him way. Or worse, that Arthur would never invite him over again. In the back of him mind, something told Harry that he still wasn't enough, and that soon Arthur would discover it as well. 

"Would you like to tell me what is bother you? If you feel we have rushes into this, please tell me. We can reschedule if you like?" Arthur would see the wheels turning in the man's head. He seemed to be growing more uncomfortable each second. Harry opened his mouth to explain, only to have the door to the house swing open. 

Gerald held the door as Arthur stepped inside. The butler took his coat and waited for Harry to enter. Arthur saw the man's hesitation. He was going to tell Harry to go home, and that he would see him tomorrow at the yard. But before he could, Harry was through the door, handing Gerald his jacket. When the butler announced the man's presence, Arthur heard feet running down the stairs. 

The children bypassed him completely, choosing instead to stand before Harry. The man smiled, his discomfort gone with the beam on the children's face. Arthur watcher with amused, which turn to surprise as both children threw their arms around Harry waist in greeting hugs. More surprising was the fact the Harry hugged then back. To see the man so affectionate was different from the normally bluntly sarcastic, arrogant man that Arthur was used to. 

"How was school?" Harry asked, finally pulling from the hug. The children began to chatter. Marry took Harry's hand and led him to the dining room. Kingsley followed close beside him. They walked past Arthur without as much as a hello. Harry gave him a sheepish look, but continued to the other room. 

Dinner was nice. The kids sat at the table, forever talking. They told Harry about their day, the new kids at school, what they were learning about. Arthur didn't say much, just watched the interaction between the children and the man. Harry was forever attentive. He laughed at Kingsley's joke, even when the boy got the punch line wrong. He listens as Marry described one of her favourite recipes. Arthur loved the way his daughters face lit up when Harry offered to cook with her. 

Before long the food was gone, but the children continued to talk. They still had so much to say. They asked for tricks, wanting Harry to entertain them. Arthur was more than surprised as Harry looked to him for permission, instead of just doing what he wanted. Arthur allowed it, joining the man and the children in the sitting room. 

Harry stated with small tricks. The 'coin in your ear' trick had both children rolling their eyes at the man. Kingsley was even able to correctly explain how Harry preformed it. Harry looked at him with adoration. The magician’s tricks became more elaborate, and soon Arthur couldn't even tell you how Harry preformed them. Harry's smile how brightly as the children exclaimed their excitement. 

"Will you teach me how to do that trick?" Kingsley asked in amazement as Harry choose his card. Marry looked on just as well.

"Not tonight. It’s getting late, and I don't have time." The two children looked after him halfhearted. "But, maybe next time." He winked and the children smile. 

"Mr. Houdini is correct, it’s getting late." The sun had already set, forcing Arthur to turn on light to keep them out of the darkness. "Time for bed." Their attention finally turning to their father, only after Arthur had ordered them to bed. The children groaned. 

"Now, now. Be good and do as your father says. Or he will get mad at me for taking too much of your time, and he won’t invite me over again." Harry warned and the children were quickly out of their seats. 

"Goodnight, Mr. Houdini." Marry quickly hugged the man, before heading up the steps. To Arthur's surprise, Kingsley also hugged the man, seeming to relish in the contact. Harry bid the children goodnight. He smiled as he waved them up the steps. The look on his face one of genuine affection and love. 

"If you would like to stay, I will go tuck them in, before escorting you home?" Arthur asked, almost sheepishly. Harry only smiled, and nodded.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry was reading in the study when Arthur returned down stairs. The children had settled surprisingly easy. Mary had asked if Harry would be returning for dinner soon. He had assured her, he would. Kingsley wanted to know how Harry had performed his tricks. Arthur only shrugged and indicated that Harry would have to show him next time he was over. Both children had smiles on their faces as he tucked the covers around them. 

"My children seem quiet taken by you." Arthur smiled as he closed the door to the study. Harry didn’t look up from the book he was reading. He had made himself comfortable, laid out across the leather settee. Arthur went to the bar, pouring himself two fingers of scotch. 

"I am quite taken by them as well. But I feel that they ignored you, in favour of me." Harry stated, his attention still on the book. 

"I noticed." Arthur chuckled. But it didn't bother him as much as he thought it should. With his drink in hand, Arthur seated himself on the edge of the table, beside where the man lay. It placed them within feet of each other, the closest they had been all night. He took a drink of the amber liquid, letting it warm him. 

"Does that make you upset?" 

"I think that it should, but it really doesn’t. You are very good with them. You seem to relate better to them then I do." He took another sip of his glass. 

"They are good kids. Brilliant and adorable." Harry moved without looking from the book. He took the glass from Arthur's hand, and sipped the liquid. Returning it while still reading. "Both qualities they must get it from their mother," He said teasingly. A smile played across his face. 

Something about the look triggered something in Arthur. It was a challenging gaze, which Arthur wanted to wipe from the man’s smug face. He finished his glass, all in one. He snatched the book from Harry, tossing across the table. He didn’t care that it landed hard on the floor. Harry opened his mouth to complain, but Author's lips were on him instead. They crowded onto the sitter, both man sharing the little space. When Arthur pulled away, the smug look was gone from the other man's face. Replaced by surprise and contentment. Arthur snorted in amusement as Harry stared at the ceiling blankly. 

"Did I just find a way to shut up the great Harry Houdini?" Arthur smirked amused. Harry glared at him, amusement also playing behind his eyes. 

"I don't know. I guess you'll have to try it again to see." He challenged. Arthur took it as an offer. He was on the man once more. This time dipping his tongue into Harry's mouth. The writer tasted of scotch and honey and Harry could help the sound that slipped past him lips.

Arthur pulled away, breathing heavily. The sound Harry had made was tantalizing. But Vera and Gerald were still awake, and the children were upstairs, too many opportunities for someone to hear. Although the idea did something to Arthur, he couldn't risk it. 

"You've got to be quiet," Author warned quickly, "someone might hear you." But it was Arthur’s turn to squeak when Harry's hand brush the front of his slacks. 

"It seems that you don't mind that idea." Harry continued to rub. Arthur bit his lips, to remain quiet. Harry licked his lips, egged on by the look on the writer’s face. 

"Harry. Harry. You've got to stop." Arthur warned as the man continued to work him. He had dreamt of this for so long, if Harry didn’t stop, it would be over before it started. "We've got to stop. Or else... Or else..." Arthur couldn't connect words. 

"Or else what?" Harry challenged. He knew what the man was talking about, but he wanted he hear Arthur say it. 

"Or else I'm going to..." Too late. One more solid stroke and Arthur was coming. His body tensed, and he cry out. Luckily, Harry had known what was happening, he took Authors lips in his, silencing his cries. After a long minute, they pulled apart. 

"What was... was..." Arthur couldn't form words, or even a thought. 

"Eloquent." Harry teased lightly. Arthur glared at him, but there was no venom in his eyes, only amusement and fulfillment. He leaned over to kiss the man once more. Harry quickly deepened the kiss, their tongues meeting to make it dirty. Harry made a choked sound as Arthur brushed his front. It seemed to echo in the quiet house. It went straight to Arthur's softened cock. It twitched in a pained attempt once more. 

"Harry, you must he quiet." Arthur pulled away.

"I will, I promise. Just..." He took Arthur's wrist in his hand, guiding back here he wanted it. He made another loud choked sound as Arthur continued his work. The writer mimicked the magician's motions. Driving Harry closer and closer to the edge. 

The closer Harry got, the louder he became. Arthur heart pounded in fear as he imagined someone walking in on them. He used his free hand to cover the man’s mouth. Harry's closed eye shot open in surprise. 

"If you don't stay quiet, someone is going to hear you." Arthur warned with a downward stroke. Harry moan behind his hand, loudly. "Do you like that idea? Is that it? You like the idea of someone seeing you like this? All needy and wanting." Harry's eyes widened in an expression Arthur had never seen before. He was sure it was desire. 

"Or is it the idea of them coming in here and seeing you all wanting and needy... for me?" The writer offered, Harry moaning loudly once more. "The magnificent Houdini needy for my hands all over him. What will people think of you then, Eric? How great will you be then?"

His hand moved from Harry's mouth into his hair. Before he would justify Arthur's words, the writer’s tongue was invading his mouth. Two more strokes and he was swallowing up the sweet sound of the Magician’s orgasm. He held Harry as his body shook, preventing the shorter man from falling off the space not meant for two. He slowed their kisses as Harry came down, the action turning lazy and sloppy. He continued to rub at the other man's trousers, until Harry pulled away with a pathetic whine. 

"Wow, Doc, you're so good with words. You should try writing." Harry teased, out of breath. Author chuckled. He learned down the kiss the man once more. Harry soaked in the attention, smiling lightly as Arthur pulled away. 

"In all reality, Harry, that was very risky." A layer of concern filled Arthur's voice as he moved from the settee. 

"You couldn't let me enjoy myself for five minutes, could you?" Harry rolled his eyes. He stood from the furniture. His legs wobbled as he tried to hold himself up. He hadn't had an orgasm with such intenseness in a while. He followed Arthur across the room. 

"Look, we’ll be more careful next time. Aright? I'll be quieter." He sated himself on the edge of the desk where the writer sat. Arthur had refilled his glass, as was sipping lightly. The look on his face could have been regret. That worried Harry. "We'll make sure the doors are locked, and the children are asleep." Harry offered. 

Arthur just sighed heavily, his shoulders stumped with a weight. There was a long silence. Neither one knowing what to say.


	8. Chapter 8

The guilt of his sin setting in, laying across him like a blanket. He had officially cheated on his wife, the woman he loved. Worse, it hadn't been another woman, it had been a man. His best friend. The things he had said in the throes of passion lay sour on his tongue. Earlier that day, he had told Harry how important he was, how great of a magician he was, but like always Arthur's mouth had gotten the better of him. 

He could only imagine how demeaned Harry must feel. Lost in the moment of passion, Arthur had gotten carried away, only after he had said them did he realize how the other man must have felt being belittled in such a way. He refused to look at Harry, in fear of seeing the hurt in the other man's face. 

"Tell me you don't regret it." Harry ordered, his voice broken. 

"I am so sorry." Arthur said just as broken, he couldn't look from his scotch. "I didn't mean to..." Arthur caught the man's arm, as he tried to retreat from the desk. "Harry, forgive me."

"No." Harry pulled away. He stopped where the book had fallen from the table. He flipped through the pages. He read and reread a line pensively, before sending the book flying. It landed hard against the shelf behind its author. Sending several other books to the ground. Author continued to sip his liquor, cringing each time a book hit the ground. A knock on the door caught his attention. 

"Is everything alright in there, Sir?" Vera asked through the door.

"Yes, fine, Vera. Thank you." Arthur called back with a small sip. He still hasn't looked to Harry. But he would feel the pain and anger radiating from the other man. 

"How could you?" Harry finally asked. He had regained his breathing, but struggled to keep his composure. 

"I didn’t mean to, it was a mistake..."

"A mistake? I don't think I have felt anything so right in my life. You're telling me you didn't feel it too?" Author hesitated. He couldn't recall the last time he had cum so hard. Not since well before Touie had gone into the hospital. Maybe not ever. There was no doubt that Harry did something to him that no one else had before. 

"I did but... I just spent the day convincing you how important you are to me, then I go and say such... Filth. How can you be alright with such a thing?" 

"Wait. What...?" 

"Don't play coy, Houdini, I know what I said was wrong. I can't ask you to forgive the word that I said. They were demeaning, belittling, and degrading. I am sorry. I understand your anger and I can't apologize enough, or hope for your forgiveness." Arthur finished his drink. He stood for another glass, hoping the alcohol would numb his sadness Harry's absence would leave behind. 

"You're an idiot." Harry said quickly, it didn’t make Arthur feel better. Neither did Harry's chuckle. The man was now laughing at Arthur's misery. He didn’t get a chance to drink his scotch, Harry taking it from him once it was poured. "You're such an idiot!" He kissed the argument from Author's lips. 

"If this is some kind of torture, I will be very upset." Author pushed Harry away, reluctantly. 

"You're an idiot." 

"Thank you." Arthur rolled his eyes, trying to turn away. But Harry held him tightly. 

"You're an idiot and I'm an idiot too. I should have known that this was all about." Arthur looked at him confused. 

"Harry, what are you talking about?" 

"Exactly! I was talking about one thing, and you were talking about something different. That's where the mix up occurred."

"Harry." Arthur sighed in frustration, still confused and growing more frustrated by the second. 

"Do you regret that I touched you? That I made you cum in your pants?" Harry asked plainly. Such words coming out of Harry mouth sounded dirty. It made Arthur's knees weak and his cock twitch. 

"No. God no. I know that I should. It's a sin. I'm married... married to a woman. But I don't regret it. Not for a second." He wasn't lying. 

"Then why did you apologize to me?" 

"The things that I said to you... You are great… magnificent. I should have never use such expressions to demean you." Arthur held the other man tight, hoping to get a chance to feel his warmth for a while longer. But Harry didn’t pull away, instead he kissed him. It was slowly, almost loving.

"Do you see why I got upset?" It took Arthur a moment to understand. 

"You though I was apologizing for what we did? That I regretted being with you?" The dawning made Arthur feel stupid, and made him realize why Harry was so upset. He pulled the man into another kiss, pouring his apology into the connection. Harry pulled away, out of breath. 

"I'm an idiot." Arthur stated and Harry laughter, resting their forehead together.


	9. Chapter 9

They held hands on the carriage ride home. They had spent a few minutes in the study kissing and touching. The misunderstanding resolved, they had gotten back to where they left off. But before they got too far, Harry made a valid argument. 

His apartment was empty. No housekeeper, or butler, and no children. He had the whole floor to himself. They wouldn't need to be quiet. It was all the encouragement Arthur needed. He had fetched their jackets and exited. Quickly telling Vera that they had a 'break in the case' and she needed to have a change of clothes delivered to Houdini's apartment in the morning. Now they both waited, inpatient for privacy. 

They separated as soon as the carriage stopped. Harry's hand going cold as soon as Arthur pulled away. They casually walked to the elevators. There wasn't a lot of people around. But one or two lingered. The two men made small talk, hoping to be unsuspicious as they headed to his room.

As soon as the door closed, and locked the two were touching. It was all hands and tongues. This time, Arthur didn’t suppress the noise that he made. Harry chuckled. He pushed the jacket from the man's broad shoulders, leaving it where it lay. There was a line of clothes following them to the bedroom. 

Harry couldn't suppress the sound he made when he finally felt skin. He had seen the black curls sticking from the button of the writer shirt, but he had never imaged the softness as he ran his hands through the layer of curls. Arthur made a similar sound, happy to be touched. It turned to a sound of surprise, then pleasure when Harry took the man’s nipple between his fingers. 

"Harry." Arthur breathes out in a moan. He was out of breath. His head spinning in pleasure. No one had ever played with him the way the magician was. It drove him wild. 

"No. No. Not when we're like this. When we're like this, I'm Eric." Harry ordered lightly. "You're the only one who gets to see the real me, the true me. Eric and not Harry." 

"Yes. God, yes. Eric." Arthur fought the other man mouth, attacking it quickly. They both moaned as Eric slipped a hand down the front of Arthur's trousers, skin on skin finally touching. The writer was already half hard, jumping quickly at the other man's touch. 

"Eric. Eric! ERIC!" Arthur pleaded, trying to get the other man's attention. He was already so close to coming. "If you don't stop, the fun will be over before it starts." With a frustrated sound, Eric pulled away. He placed an arm’s length between them, letting them both catch their breaths. 

Eric's hair was a mess. He hadn't even gotten out of this shirt yet. His chest was heaving and bulge was large in the front of his trousers. He had a predatory look in his eye, which caused Arthur to shiver is excitement. But it softened as he calmed.

"Arthur, have you ever... Before?" 

"I have two children, Harry, I have had sex before."

"With your wife, yes, but have you ever... With a man." Arthur couldn't help his blush. It reached all the way to his hairy chest. Harry was right.

"Um... No... Until you came along I hadn't even... I had always been... Women... And not even that many..." Harry smiled. Flustered Arthur was adorable. 

"Hey, that's alright. It's not a bad thing," he took the other man’s hands in his, in an intimate gesture. "But I need you to tell me if I do something you don't like, alright?" Arthur nodded, unable to meet Harry's gaze.

"Have you... Before?" Harry only kissed him in reply. Soft and easy. 

He began unbuttoning his shirt, Arthur helping. He drank in the sound Eric made when their skin finally touched. The writer taking a moment to run his hands up and down the sculpted chest. He had seen if before, but it felt better than he had ever imagined. Eric hooked his hands into the writer’s belt loops, sending their bodies crashing together. Skin met skin and their cocks brushed through the fabric of their trousers. They both moaned. 

"Eric, if we don't stop..."

"I know. Take off your clothes." He pulled away, stripping quickly. He stood before the writer in nothing but a smile. A smile that faded as Arthur drank him in. The look on his stunned. 

"What?" Harry asked confused. His confidence diminishing, he moved to cover himself. "Is there something wrong? Some medical disfiguration?" 

"You're... Gorgeous." 

"Oh... I wasn't expecting that." It was Eric's turn to blush. He noticed that Arthur had stopped undressing, his pants still around his waist. "It's my turn to see you, continue." He said lightly. His smile fading with the look on Arthur's face. "We don't have to, if you don't want. I can put my clothes back on. We can just do it through the clothes. That works to." 

"You're gorgeous." Arthur repeated dumbly. 

"Arthur, tell me what's wrong." 

"You're gorgeous."

"I got that. Now tell me what's wrong." 

"I... I'm... I'm not." 

"You're not what? Ready for this?" 

"I'm not gorgeous." Arthur stated flatly. He was years older than the American. His black hair was graying. His body was sagging compared to the man before him. His cock was smaller in length. He was nothing compared to the man before him. 

"Arthur..." Harry chuckled. The other man wasn't amused.

"Harry." He warned quickly. 

"I don't care about such things." Harry approached him slowly, like he would a frightened animal. He didn't want to startle him. 

"I've seen the woman you work with… the people you work with. They are prettier than me. So, why would you pick me?" Harry couldn't hide the self-consciousness in his voice. 

"Because, they don't make me feel the way you do." He ran his hand lightly along the man stomach, resting his hand on Arthur's hips. He brought their hips to touching, smiling at the sounds Arthur made. 

"What point in this situation makes you think that I'm not attached to you? It this not proof enough?" He ground his hard cock into Arthur. The writer almost swooned. 

"Everyone else, those other people were just distraction... To pass the time. To use until I got you. They were nothing. You get something no one else does." He latched onto the man’s throat, nipping and sucking just below his Adam's apple. 

"Yeah, what might that be?" Arthur asked, breathy. Moaning as Harry continued to work. 

"Say my name." Harry ordered.

"Eric."

"Again."

"Eric. Eric. Eric." Arthur began chanting the name. Breathing in between moans. "Eric!" Arthur jumped in surprise when the man’s mouth attached his nipple. 

"So, sensitive. No one ever touch you there before?" Arthur couldn't speak, only shake his head. "You won’t be able to say that again." The magician returned to his work. But Arthur was so close. If Eric didn't stop, the Englishman might pass out. He wound him hand into the other man's hair, tugging lightly to catch his attention. Eric pulled off him with a POP which made them both moan. 

"So, close. Clothes off." The writer couldn't even form complete sentences. But Harry smiled his understanding. He pulled away enough to drop to his knees. The smile on his face as he pulled down Arthur's pants was sinister and the writer loved it. Arthur would never admit to the sound he made, when Harry ran his tongue along his cock. Harry chuckled before doing it again. 

"Eric, I swear..." Arthur choked out, fighting to control against the burning feeling in his stomach. 

"Alright." Eric pulled away. He lifted one of Arthur's legs and then the other, freeing the man of his clothes. He stood then, pressing their naked bodies together, both moaning. 

"You don't give yourself enough credit," Eric kissed him. "You're stunning." 

"Eric, bed." Arthur murmured between kisses. Eric walked then backwards. Unable to see around the taller man, he had to estimate. He refused to let the man go. Fearing Arthur might change his mind. When the soft mattress touched the back of his knees, Arthur allowed himself to fall into its embrace, too drunk on Eric to care.


	10. Chapter 10

But a worry arose in the back of his mind when Eric disappeared, and began rooting for something in the bedside table. He was back before Arthur could question. His worry turned to general fear as the other man sat between Arthur’s parted legs. He understood the process of sex with a woman, he had used lube when Touie was pregnant and he hadn't wanted to hurt her. But now Arthur realized there were a lack of places to stick key pieces of anatomy and the lube in Eric's hand worried him.

 

"Harry." Arthur heard his voice wobble. "What is that for?"

 

"Don't worry," he chuckled. He shifted Arthur’s legs to wrap around his waist. He saw the uncertainty on the man's face. He kissed it away. "You're not ready for that yet… We're not ready for that yet." He leaned over and kissed the Englishman.

 

He placed some lube in his hand, before reaching between them. Arthur yelled as Eric took his cock in hand. He encircled him, giving him a good couple pumps. He loosened his grip, guiding his own cock between his fingers. He rocked his hips, encouraging Arthur to do the same. It took a long moment, before the writer caught up. Eric hand on him making his brain short circuit.

 

He moaned into the American’s mouth. He was glad they were not at his house. He had never been loud before. By himself, or with a partner he had always clenched his jaw and never made a sound. Even before he had children, Arthur had always been quiet. But no matter how hard he tried, in that moment, he couldn't stop the sounds, moans, words that fell from his lips. Eric didn't seem to mind. He wasn't much better.

 

"Close. Eric. So, close!" Arthur moaned into the other man's mouth. He cried when the man's hand disappeared. He opened his eyes, which he didn’t realize he had closed, looking up at Eric confused. Eric no longer balanced on one arm above him, he sat back on his heels. A layer of sweat making his body shimmer. The Englishman made a needy sound.

 

"Hand." He ordered quickly. Arthur gave Eric his hand, which seemed to be extra heavy in the moment. He watched Eric coat it in lube, and interlock this fingers together. He was more than a little confused when Eric leaned over him once more. But confusion gave way to pleasure as their joined hand wrapped around their cocks. The friction was so much better, as they bunked together.

 

"Close." It was the only word that the wordsmith could muster. Eric just kissed him.

 

"Then cum." He ordered lightly. Two strokes later, and Arthur was gone. Pouring his seed only his stomach. The warm cum joined cold lube and the difference sent Eric over the edge, moaning into Arthur's mouth.

 

They lay panting, covered in sweat and cum for a long moment. Eric's arm shook, and Arthur began to worry. The arm was improperly healed and there was no doubt that holding it in such a potion was painful. But before he could say anything, still to lost to find words, Eric shifted. He rolled to the side, collapsing on the large bed beside Arthur. They stayed silent, the only sound between them was their ragged breaths.

 

If Arthur could form a complete thought, he would be concerned about what just happened. He had cheated on his wife, betrayed his faith, and laid with a man. But he could get his brain to wrap around any of that. All that he could focus on was his breathing, and the feel of the skin that brushed against his.

 

Arthur almost cried out on pain when that skin disappeared. He watched Eric roll from the bed, and stand on wobbly legs. He wanted to ask the other man what he was doing, where he was going. But he couldn't make his mouth move.

 

 Fear set in as the seconds pasted by. Arthur could imagine Harry returning with his clothes and asking him to leave. Harry had gotten what he wanted and he was done with the writer. Fear turned to sadness. Arthur's heart pained at the idea of being so easily brushed aside by the man. He had become just another one of Harry Houdini conquests.

 

Arthur had gone against his God and his wife when he chose to lay with the other. He had given up so much, only to be asked to leave minutes later, all while still covered in the other man's cum. He fought against the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He didn’t understand how the other man could be so heartless.

 

Arthur jumped in surprise when the warmth touched him. He had been too caught up in his brain to hear the door open or feel the bed dip. He opened his eyes to see Eric hovering over him. A warm flannel in his hand. He was slowly wiping away the mess coated over Arthur's stomach. His light smile waved as he saw the watery eyes staring back at him.

 

"What's wrong?" He asked lightly, his gentle touches never stopping. Arthur tried to swallow down the lump in his throat, but couldn't get past the fear that flooded his brain. He would only close his eyes and shake his head, hoping that Eric wouldn't push him for information. Luckily, Eric did not.

 

Harry tried to hide the worry on his face. Moments ago, the Englishman had been relaxed, content. But now he was tense and he thought he could see tears in the man's eye. He wondered what had transpired in the small amount of time had been gone. He wished he would have thought to warm the water before they had gotten into the bedroom. But his brain hadn't been thinking that far ahead. He hadn't wanted to be separate from the man, but he also didn't want to clean him with cold water. Apparently, their separation had taken a toll.

 

 Harry debated asking him what had happened, what was wrong. But Arthur didn’t seem like he wanted to talk. He finished wiping the last of the body fluid and lube from the man's stomach. He tossed aside the rag, not caring where it landed, is concern was on the man. He pulled Arthur into his arms, half laying the man atop him. He lay Arthur's head on his shoulder, and ran a reassuring hand along his back. Author remained tense and after a long moment Harry wondered if he had made the wrong move.

 

_Maybe Arthur wasn't a cuddle? Maybe Arthur was regretting his choice to be with him? Maybe Arthur hadn't enjoyed their interaction?_ Harry caught his breath at that last thought. Arthur had cum, but that doesn't mean he enjoyed it. His reaction was natural human biology, there was a chance he had force Arthur into something he truly did not want. 

 

But finally, the writer relaxed against him. He melted into Harry's arms. The muscles below his hand giving away. It made Harry feel a bit better.

 

"Do you want to talk about it?" Harry offered. Arthur shook his head. Still unable to form words. He was choosing instead to bask in the warmth of the man below him. His fears subsiding with each stroke of Harry's caring hands. "Okay." Harry didn't want to push. He kissed the writers thinning hair, and held him slightly.

 

"If you keep doing that, I’m going to fall asleep." Arthur finally spoke after they had laid in silence for several minutes. Arthur had been lulled into a sleepy state listening the Harry's heart beat and his soft touches. Harry chuckled, a rattle below Arthur's ear.

 

"That's okay. I wasn't planning on letting you go any time soon." He shifted to get comfortable below the man. The writers weight a welcome warmth above him. He was also on the verge of sleep, happy with the man so close. It wasn't long before they were both out.


	11. Chapter 11

When Arthur blinked awake in the magician's room, he had couldn't recall the last time he had slept so soundly. It was probably before Touie had gone into the hospital. Normally, he would stay up worrying about her or the kids or wondering what Harry was doing or thinking. But in the moment, none of those things mattered. The only thing that was the body below him.

 

Harry's body was warm. The strong arm around Arthur held him close. The curls under his chin tickled. He couldn't stop himself as he rubbed his cheek along the man's skin. The mumming that rumbled the man's chest caught Arthur's attention. He looked up to see Harry blankly stating at the ceiling. 

 

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked, trying to hide his concern. He hoping that the look on the man's face wasn't because of him. 

 

"Just thinking." He hummed. Harry smiled down at him, shifting to hold him closer.

 

"What are you thinking about?"

 

"Blood."

 

"Blood? That's what you choose to focus on at such an hour?" Arthur looked up at the man confused.

 

"It's for the case." Arthur felt stupid. He had been so wrapped up in everything that he had forgotten about a case. "I had been too distracted lately to focus on it."

 

"Distracted? By what?"

 

"You. You're all I have been thinking about. I couldn't focus on anything else." Houdini lifted the other man's chin and kissed him.

 

"I know a bit about blood... Want to discuss your thoughts?" Arthur offered once they had pulled apart. Harry smiled down at him. He pressed them tightly together, keeping Arthur close.

 

"If I’m standing behind you, when I chop your head off, I will get blood on me."

 

"Behind, beside or in front. The jugular vein will force the blood out very quickly, spraying blood out in every direction."

 

"Exactly! So, if I'm standing anywhere near you, I will be covered is blood. Which means that I will prevent the blood from reaching the area behind me."

 

"You're talking about blood spray patterns?"

 

"YES! A person would have interrupted the blood stay where they were standing. Preventing it from forming and indicate where I am standing."

 

"But there was no blood spray interruption at either crime scene." Arthur recalled the scenes. There was blood in a 360 degree radios of both crime scenes.

 

"Right." Harry let out a huffed sigh. "So, either our murder faked the splatter or..."

 

"Was transparent?" Arthur slipped in quickly. He could hear Harry roll his eyes.

 

"OR he was...." Harry hesitated for a long moment.

 

"He was what?"

 

"... I don't know." He sighed again. He shifted below Arthur. A pensive look on his face.

 

"…Yet. We don't know yet." Arthur assured him. He returned his head to Harry's chest, soaking in the warmth of the man. Harry returned to stroking his back, soft touches that relaxed him.

 

"Do you want to talk about what happened earlier?"

 

"Huh?" Arthur mummed. Him brain was once more tired. Being lulled to sleep by the man under him.

 

"Earlier. I had gone to retrieve a washrag, when I came back you seemed... Distraught. Do you want to talk about it?" Harry held him a little tighter as he explained, like he thought Arthur was going to try and escape.

 

"It doesn't matter." Arthur huddled in closer, finding comfort in the man's slightly protective behavior.

 

"I wasn't going to leave you... If that's what you were thinking. And I wasn't going to make you leave either. I'm not a monster."

 

"I would never say that about you."

 

"Well, some people..."

 

"Those people obviously don’t know what they are talking about." Arthur hugged the man a little tighter. There was a long moment of silence. "But… Maybe I was worried about you asking me to leave, but I know you wouldn't do such a thing. If was just me, planning the worst. Thinking... Over thinking. I do that... often."

 

"I would never leave **YOU** or ask **YOU** to leave." Harry tipped his chin and kissed him again. There was something about it that was different from the other kisses. It was tender and slow. Almost loving. It left Arthur breathless. "Even if I still think your ghost theory is stupid."

 

Arthur couldn't help chuckle. He rolled his eye. Harry was good at ruining perfectly good moment with comments. Arthur shifted once more, not missing the sharp sound Harry tried to cover with a chuckle. It took the doctor a second to realize he had been laying across Harry's broken ribs. Of course, Harry wouldn't say anything about the pain. Stubborn man.

 

"Okay, maybe stupid was the wrong word to use." Harry spat out quickly as Arthur shifted from him.  A fear set into the magician, fear that he had offended the man, and Arthur was going to leave. His hands followed the other man, hoping to keep him close. "Unbelievable? Hard to handle? Unrealistic?" Harry offered substitutions. He followed Arthur’s movement as the man pulled away. "Arthur, please?" His voice finally broke.

 

"I don't care that you call it, I'm not going to stop trying to convince you." Arthur quickly adjust onto his side of the bed. He pulled the other man to him, his turn to be protective. He had heard the brokenness of the other man's voice. He wrapped Harry in his arms, and kissed the top of his curly hair. "But now, it’s time to sleep." Harry mummed his agreement, content against the writer’s side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Series possible only if people are interested. I claim rights to ALL third party characters and/or idea not limited to story/plot but excluding any rights to main and/or secondary characters within the franchise, and claim on the franchise itself.


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